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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26116660">Wheels Up.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheelsupin30/pseuds/wheelsupin30'>wheelsupin30</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Criminal Minds (US TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Eventual Relationships, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, No Smut, Slow Burn, Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 03:35:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,846</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26116660</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheelsupin30/pseuds/wheelsupin30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU look through of the Criminal Minds series episode by episode with one particular addition - you, as you navigate cases, your personal life and your relationships.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Spencer Reid/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is gonna be quite the endeavor, so please be patient with me. Especially since I've never publicly posted my writing before. I plan on including all the episodes along with moments out of the office. Any feedback is greatly appreciated.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You were home, curled up on the couch with a glass of wine. It had been a long week; it was always a long week working with the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit. So, when you were told you'd have the night off, you were quick to head back to your apartment to at least attempt to de-stress. You usually never got that far, but, hey, it's the thought that counts, right?</p><p>You hadn't reached pure relaxation when the call came in but you were kinda chill. That changed.</p><p>You moved quickly, placing your glass on the coffee table and replacing it with your ringing cell phone that you still took a moment to answer. You needed to be sure that you wouldn't sound as frustrated by the disturbance as you felt.</p><p>"Y/L/N," you gave your standard greeting as you stood, already knowing what was coming next.</p><p>"There's a case, we need you." The voice was gruff and familiar and you had to fight the urge to sigh. When Aaron Hotchner called, there was no saying no.</p><p>*</p><p>You had just approached the BAU headquarters when your boss, Hotch, came walking out followed quickly by fellow Supervisory Special Agent, Derek Morgan.</p><p>"Y/L/N." They both greeted you at the same time and you had to suppress a smile. It was official, you all spent far too much time together.</p><p>"Hey!" You paused for a moment, brows furrowing slightly as you eyed the older men. This was unusual. You knew absolutely nothing about the case and they were already heading out? Plus, you were obviously down a person. The team's most recent hire, Dr. Spencer Reid, was noticeably missing which was highly unusual. The BAU's new baby, as you had referred to him ever since he joined and took your spot as the youngest member of the team, was a workaholic. A trait, really, that you all shared, but he took it to a new level. His absence was noticeable. He was always available which meant he was never late. "What's going on?"</p><p>Derek and Hotch looked at each other before the latter motioned for you to start moving. That's when you noticed the file in his hand. "Let's talk while we walk."</p><p>You recognized an order when you were given one and simply nodded your head.</p><p>*</p><p>On the way to God-knows-where, you got the details.</p><p>Heather Woodland, twenty-two years old. The fourth woman in just as many months to go missing in Seattle. The other three had turned up dead a week after their initial abductions. All had been strangled. The most curious aspect was the victim's computer being wiped clean with just a message left on the screen, <em>“for heaven's sake catch me before I kill again I cannot control myself."</em> The same words the Lipstick Killer had left at his crime scenes.</p><p>You were still mulling over the details when the three of you came to a stop. You had been so fixated on the case information it hadn't registered just how deep into the Academy you had gone, passing lecture rooms and offices until you arrived at one with it's door open. Voices spilled out and at first you smiled, recognizing Spencer's immediately. He was young and eager and you could hear it when he spoke. For all intents and purposes, he was a kid. Twenty-three years old, for God's sake. Still awkward and gangly and you were convinced he couldn't grow a beard even if he tried. But he was still easily the smartest person in any room he walked in. He talked too much because he knew too much.</p><p>You two weren't close, but that was par the course for the team. Hotch was tough and demanding, professional almost to a fault. Sometimes he'd let the walls down - like when he happily announced Haley's pregnancy. Happily for him, at least. There was no gushing, but he did crack a smile. That was the closest thing to pure joy you had ever seen him express.</p><p>Spencer was awkward. He didn't shake hands or like to be touched in general. You remembered the first time you had impulsively patted him on the shoulder after he made the case breaking connection that led the team right to the unsub. You had just wanted to let him know he had done well but you had clearly made him uncomfortable in the process. He stiffened so hard under your touch you thought he might crack into pieces. He didn't seem to have the usual social life of someone his age either which led to few stories to share. You'd listen to him ramble, occasionally butting in when you knew a fact, or discuss leads and theories when on a case but it never went much deeper than that.</p><p>Derek was the one you were closest to. You'd joke and tease each other, purposely get coffee orders wrong and laugh when the other realized their coffee was too bitter or too sweet. After cases, you'd stay up late on the jet whispering back in forth; you'd unload your feelings as to the horrific things you all saw on a daily basis on him and he'd reassure you, letting you know the day you were unaffected by these things was the day you needed to resign. You had worried about being seen as too soft, something that happened regardless due to your gender, but that macho man was still so quick to comfort you. You were friends.</p><p>At the end of the day, your relationship with your team members was irrelevant. What truly mattered was their ability to do their job. If things went awry, would you trust them to have your back? And the answer to that was absolutely, without a single doubt in your mind. You were working with the most capable in the Bureau.</p><p>"You'll be with us in Seattle ASAP," Hotch spoke, stepping through the doorway and pulling you out of your reverie.</p><p>You followed behind, eyes scanning the room and falling on a familiar face. You should have recognized the voice when you heard it.</p><p>Jason Gideon.</p><p>You had been in Boston when all hell broke loose, sitting right beside the man as he unknowingly sent six agents to their death. Anyone could look back on it now and see where he went wrong but hindsight was always 20/20. In the moment, it had felt right and even you had thought so. Who would have known the unsub would have detonated a bomb only moments after they entered the building? That didn't stop Jason or everyone else from blaming him, though. It was no wonder the man had a nervous breakdown and you were surprised he was off medical leave so soon. It had only been six months.</p><p>Derek handed Gideon the same photo you had just been looking at as Hotch filled him in on the details. The picture had stood out to you. Heather Woodland was smiling brightly, sun shining down on her, face framed by curly red hair. Unease grew in the pit of your stomach at the thought of her ending up like the other victims. You hoped you'd be able to find her in time.</p><p>"They want you back in the saddle. Are you ready?" Derek asked.</p><p>"I guess medical leave is over, boss," you piped up.</p><p>"Are you sure they want me?" Jason's voice was soft, but contained the same shock you had felt when you first laid eyes on him.</p><p>Hotch spoke next, letting him know the order came right from the director. That seemed to fill Jason with the confidence he had needed and just like that the team was back together and heading to Seattle.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The team discusses the case on the jet and eventually touches down in Seattle.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Let's call this one the chapter where your dear writer had to Google "how long does it take to strangle someone to death?" and 2005 US car crash statistics. I did just want to take a moment to thank everyone for the hits, bookmarks and kudos. All are very appreciated.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Thirty six hours.</p><p>Thirty six damn hours was all you guys had to find Heather Woodland.</p><p>The timeline was clear. Once the women went missing, it was seven days before their bodies were dumped. If the unsub kept to that pattern, and there was no indication that they wouldn't, that left just a day and a half to find out who they were and where they were keeping Heather. It was lucky that the team, while always motivated and at the top of their game, worked far better when under pressure.</p><p>You were all huddled together on the BAU's private jet. You were seated by the window with Hotch beside you. Across from you could see Spencer repeatedly scanning the police file, absorbing the information faster than should be humanly possible while Gideon, to his left, pursed his lips and rubbed his temple. Derek didn't even bother to sit. He was standing in the aisle, looming over the rest of the team.</p><p>"The first victim," Spencer began, eyes never leaving the paper in his hand, "was twenty-six year old Melissa Kirsch. Stab wounds, strangulation."</p><p>The place to start with any profile was the previous victims. The matter of death, the way and place the unsub disposed of the bodies was telling. No matter how prepared and organized the unsub was, there was always something - a little clue or sign - that was left behind. Which is why you found yourself so interested in Melissa. She was the first and she was the outlier. She was the only one stabbed.</p><p>"Wait, let's back it up. Stab wounds? So, what, he stabbed her and then strangled her to finish her off?" Derek's question came from behind you and you had to shift your body in order to see him.</p><p>Spencer opened his mouth but before he could speak you answered. "Other way around, I think. The unsub probably realized it's a lot harder and more time consuming to strangle someone than the movies make it out to be. The stabbing was a last resort." When you turned back to look at the rest of the team, you noticed Spencer staring at you with furrowed brows.</p><p>"I agree." Gideon wasn't one to mince words and you always appreciated that. "The belt was introduced after that for the second murder. Why do you think that is?"</p><p>This time, Spencer was quick to respond. "Stabbing is messy but it's also much harder to strangle someone with your bare hands. It can take up to thirty three pounds of pressure to completely close off the trachea and you must maintain that for at least four minutes for the victim to be brain dead." Of course he knew that. "That requires a lot of physical strength. The unsub would have realized that after the first victim and started using the belt because it was easier."</p><p>"Work smarter not harder, right?" You quipped.</p><p>Derek snorted in response but Spencer didn't pick up on your jest - or maybe he just didn't think you were funny. He certainly wouldn't be the first person with that opinion. "Only makes sense to use the most efficient method of death. Especially if you want to make a habit of it. Which this unsub clearly did." The reminder of the other victims sobered you and you felt bad for joking. There was a time and place for that and it wasn't on the way to a crime scene where you only had a day and a half to find a missing woman.</p><p>"Right." You frowned, eyes focusing on the sky passing by the window while the rest of the team went over some final details.</p><p>*</p><p>It was a relatively short plane ride and once you touched down on the airport apron, you all gathered your belongings and headed into a waiting SUV. Hotch was driving, Gideon got shotgun and you were in the back sandwiched between Derek and Spencer.</p><p>Derek had said the arrangement made the most sense since you were the smallest of the group but you failed to see the logic there. You figured he just wanted the ability to annoy you as much as possible.</p><p>"Derek, I swear to God if you touch me one more time..." You trailed off, but the unspoken threat was clear. It didn't matter, though, because seconds later a hard elbow made contact with your side and you wiggled, instinctively moving closer to Spencer. "Morgan!" You had to fight the urge to slap him upside his bald head.</p><p>"Enough, agents." The voice coming from the driver's seat was stern. Hotch was not amused.</p><p>Your boss had officially entered into dad mode and you couldn't help but be embarrassed. What adult wanted to be scolded?</p><p>You were just about to give a contrite apology when you noticed how close you were to Spencer. He was so tense and you immediately felt bad. You somehow managed to cross boundaries without even trying. Offering the younger male a small smile, you quickly moved back to your previous position. "Sorry." Hotch would have thought that was for him but you were looking at Spencer.</p><p>*</p><p>The team arrived at the F.B.I's Northwest Field Office in Seattle. Once you all got past security and the metal detectors, Hotch led you all straight to the office which would be your headquarters while in Washington. Since he had worked in that very building previously, he knew it well.</p><p>"That's Special Agent Gideon," he said, referring to Jason who had bypassed all people and desks, instead heading straight for the case board. "This is Special Agent Morgan, Special Agent Reid-"</p><p>"Doctor Reid." You had corrected him without even realizing you were doing it. You didn't mean to - it was just instinct. Spencer was still so young, you didn't want anyone to discount him because of that. You wanted every agent in that room to know just how qualified he was. And besides, if you had managed to get three doctorates by the time you were twenty-one, you sure as hell would have wanted to be referred to as Doctor.</p><p>"Doctor Reid," Hotch repeated, "and this here is Special Agent Y/L/N. And considering how long I worked here, I'll save that particular introduction because you all better remember me." That got a couple of laughs out of the group.</p><p>You walked past Hotch, Spencer and Derek to meet Gideon where he was standing. He was studying a map and you could tell he was starting to put some pieces together. When you arrived at his side, he spoke but didn't look at you. "He's willing to travel with the body."</p><p>"He must have a vehicle capable of concealing one," Hotch concluded.</p><p>"So what are we thinking? A SUV, a truck, a four door sedan with a large trunk?" You posed the question to the group. You didn't know a lot about cars, but you could think of a few makes and models that would fit a dead body.</p><p>"1 in 7.4 drivers in Seattle owns an SUV." You were again amazed at the facts Spencer could just spout off at the drop of a hat. You wondered if that was previously obtained knowledge or research for this particular case. You were tempted to ask but thought better of it.</p><p>"Okay..." You breathed, nodding your head.</p><p>"An Explorer with tinted windows would do the trick," Derek added.</p><p>"Explorers rate higher with women," Spencer pointed out.</p><p>"But that's assuming the vehicle is even his." You wanted to tell Derek that it was kinda of our entire job to assume things but you didn't.</p><p>Instead you asked, "Well, what's the alternative in that case? He's using the victims' vehicles, a friend's or a significant other's?" You didn't see the unsub maintaining a normal, healthy relationship with a woman but you supposed anything was possible.</p><p>"Ted Bundy had a VW Bug." You didn't know if Gideon mentioned that as his possible car suggestion or if he was using it as anecdotal evidence that it probably was his own vehicle that the unsub was using. Either way, you nodded your head.</p><p>"What about a Jeep Cherokee?" Hotch's idea seemed just as likely as anything that had been mentioned previously. Jeeps were big and could obviously hold a dead body, especially that of an average-sized woman.</p><p>"Jeeps are considered more masculine," Spencer said, seeming to agree that was likely the vehicle being used.</p><p>"And this is the kind of guy who is all about asserting his masculinity," you added. You saw it a lot - men who wanted to be viewed as tough and indestructible, but they always seemed to prey on those they found to be the weakest. It didn't make sense to you, but you weren't a psychopath.</p><p>"When did the Bureau get called in?" Gideon asked that question and you figured he was trying to make up a timeline of his own.</p><p>An agent you hadn't been introduced to answered, "After the third body. He dumped it out of state."</p><p>"So, he has some law enforcement knowledge." You spoke, but left the last - and most important - part of that statement unsaid. Does that mean he's an experienced criminal or actually in law enforcement?</p><p>"Or he's watched an episode of Law &amp; Order." Derek was such a smart ass. You shot him a quick look before again focusing your attention on all the information provided by the Seattle agents.</p><p>*</p><p>It was decided that Gideon and Derek would go to the last dumpsite while you and Reid headed out to speak with Heather's brother. You'd be meeting him at her place so you could also profile her living situation while getting background information on the latest victim.</p><p>"You know, Doctor Reid," you said from the driver seat, taking your eyes off the road for only the briefest of moments in order to look at your companion, "one of these days, I'm gonna have <em>you</em> drive <em>me</em>." When you and Derek were riding together, you two usually fought over who got the keys but that was never the case with Spencer. He always happily gave up driving privileges to settle in the passenger seat, usually with a book.</p><p>You really didn't mind, though. You actually liked to drive. You found it to be relaxing and it was one activity that could always take your mind off of whatever was going on at the moment. But that didn't stop you from wanting to see Spencer behind the wheel at least once. You just knew he could drive because he could do literally everything else.</p><p>"I, uh - I don't like to drive. Did you know that there are over six million motor vehicle crashes a year? Forty three thousand of those are fatal."</p><p>"I didn't know that, Spence. But that is very comforting." You smiled, just so he'd know you were teasing him, before reaching over to turn on the radio. It was already on some classic rock station and you left it there, allowing the two of you to fall into a comfortable silence surrounded by the sounds of Fleetwood Mac and the Rolling Stones.</p><p>*</p><p>When you pulled up outside of Heather's home, a redheaded man in a pink shirt rushed out to greet you before either you or Spencer could even get out of the vehicle. Her brother, David, looked so much like her it was almost eerie.</p><p>You got to him first and offered the man a smile along with your extended hand. "David?" He nodded. "I'm Special Agent Y/LN and this is Doctor Reid." He seemed surprised - both by Spencer's title and his unwillingness to shake hands the way you had. Once he mumbled a '<em>nice to meet you both</em>', you motioned towards the house. "May we come in?"</p><p>He nodded and lead the way. The three of you had barely stepped through the threshold when a beautiful golden retriever came bouncing up to you. First, it brushed against David. Then it came to you, bumping it's head against your shins. You bent down so you were eye level with the pup as you pet it's head. "Oh, you're a cutie," you cooed, grinning. You could feel Reid's eyes on you and you could almost imagine how uncomfortable that germaphobe would be in your position.</p><p>Speaking of the lanky man to your right, once the dog spotted him, it began barking and even lunged towards Spencer who immediately took an alarmed step backwards. David was quick to act, grabbing a hold of it's collar and pulling it towards the living room all while admonishing the canine. "Sandy, Sandy! No, no..." <em>Sandy</em>. That was a cute name for a dog.</p><p>"Oh, it's alright. Doctor Reid tends to have that effect - you should see how kids react to him," you joked, winking at your co-worker.</p><p>It was then David eyed Spencer with the same look you saw outside. "You seem pretty young to have gone through med school." Typical.</p><p>Spencer gulped. You felt bad that he was so often in a position where he needed to explain himself and his education. "They're PhD's, three of them."</p><p>"Are you a genius or something?" Heather's brother questioned, running a hand across the now subdued Sandy's fur.</p><p>"I don't believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified, but I do have an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory and can read 20,000 words per minute." David looked at Spencer the way most piece did when they realized just how smart he was - with a mixture of awe, shock and intimidation. A lot of people were intelligent but at that level? Spencer was a rare breed indeed. "Yes," he finally relented, "I'm a genius."</p><p>Well, at least he admitted. Knowing it was time to get the pressure off of Reid and to get down to why you were really here, you started to look around a bit. Rather quickly some magazines caught your eye. "David, does your sister drive a Datsun Z?"</p><p>"No, but she's in the market for one." He opened his mouth to speak again, but Sandy started barking so, with an apologetic smile, he led the dog out of the room leaving you and Spencer alone.</p><p>You grabbed the car magazine and held it up for Spencer to see. "You think she might have been answering an ad? It would be hard to resist a listing for your dream car." You had been wondering how Heather had met her abductor - this might have been it.</p><p>"There is an immediate relationship between buyer and seller, a certain level of trust you don't have with most strangers. If I wanted to lure a young woman in my car, I'd offer her a test drive."</p><p>Normally you might have made a joke, <em>do you often try to lure young women into your car, Doctor?  </em>But the two of you might have just come up with a major break through; the connection between the unsub and the victim. You’d have other opportunities to put Spencer on the spot. Instead, you grabbed your phone and dialed Hotch's number. It was time to start the profile.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The reader disagrees with the profile and the BAU eventually gets the bad guy(s).</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A super long chapter to round out the case. The next one will be short and sweet, though. I promise.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"This doesn't make sense." You were back at the North West Field Office, crammed into the one available space with the entire team. Ever the boss, Hotch commandeered the empty desk. The same desk you had chosen to sit on, positioning your body so you could see him and the rest of your co-workers. Gideon had his back to you all as he stared out the window. Derek paced back and forth, tossing a stress ball in the air. While Spencer, most endearing off all, was spinning around on an office chair. It was the most age appropriate thing you had ever seen him do.</p><p>"You're right, Y/N, it doesn't. On one hand we have paranoid psychosis..." Derek trailed off.</p><p>"He put layer after layer of duct tape over the eyes of his victims," Spencer finished, completing another rotating. "The autopsy <em>does</em> show adhesive residue."</p><p>"He planned this out. I don't believe for a second he didn't decide to kill these women long before they were abducted. So why cover the eyes if they're going to die anyway?" You just didn't get it. Usually an unsub would cover the victim's eyes so they couldn't identify him or because he was familiar with them and had remorse. Dead bodies can't participate in a line up and everything about this case screamed stranger abduction.</p><p>"He didn't want them to be able to look at him," answered Spencer, causing you to roll your eyes.</p><p>"Yeah, I get that. But why?" You can't help but ask again because you couldn't get past it.</p><p>"Okay, so he doesn't want them to be able to see him. Maybe he doesn't want to be watched, whatever. But then he just dumps the body out in the open with the murder weapon nearby. It doesn't add up." Derek seemed to be struggling with the facts of the case as much as you were.</p><p>"That certainly doesn't fit the profile of a paranoid convinced he's constantly being observed," Spencer agreed, coming to a stop.</p><p>"Maybe he's schizophrenic," Hotch suggested.</p><p>That didn't sit right with you. While the covering of the eyes was paranoid, none of the unsub's other actions indicated schizophrenia. Especially not the public dumping of the victim.</p><p>"Maybe we still don't have enough for a complete profile," argued Derek.</p><p>"But," Hotch countered, "we do have enough to narrow our list of suspects."</p><p>You and Spencer had just been listening as the men went back and forth but you had to pipe in. "Maybe--" You had started to speak but Gideon spun around and cut you off.</p><p>"Enough. Hotch, let them know we're ready."</p><p>*</p><p>"The unidentified subject is a white man in his late 20s," Gideon began.</p><p>All eyes were on him as he spoke but you let your mind wander. The profile was full of the usual stuff. The unsub was unremarkable, someone who could blend into a crowd. He's an organized killer who has probably already inserted him into the investigation. He's sexually inadequate and feels persecuted. You didn't necessarily disagree with the profile but you did think something was missing and it was eating at you.</p><p>When Gideon had finished, you quietly gathered the team together in order to voice your concerns. "Guys, I have to be honest here. Something just doesn't sit right with me about this." You paused, suddenly nervous. Maybe you were wrong. No one else you worked with had come to the same conclusion and all of them, sans Spencer, had been doing this far longer than you. But it was too late now. "I think there's more than one unsub."</p><p>"What?!" Derek exclaimed, clearly surprised.</p><p>Hotch frowned, giving him a stern look - one that clearly said shut up - before turning his attention to you. "Why do you think that?"</p><p>You sighed. "I-I don't know. I just can't get past the inconsistencies." You ran a hand through your hair and caught the way they were all looking at you. Were you the one being profiled now? "We're seeing signs of paranoid psychosis but then behavior that's not paranoid. Why? Why cover the eyes because he doesn't want to be watched but  not even attempt to hide the body? Someone who thinks they're being surveilled isn't going to do that."</p><p>"There are other things in the profile that could explain that," Hotch said.</p><p>You looked at Derek. "You know you had the same issues with the profile that I did!"</p><p>"Because, Y/N, I don't think we've had enough time to fully investigate this - not because I think we're dealing with a team here. Nothing we have really indicates that."</p><p>You frowned, a sense of desperation starting to rise in you. You respected the other members of your team but you couldn't just ignore your gut instincts. That went against all of your training. You scanned the confused, and slightly concerned, faces that were watching you before your gaze fell on Reid's visage. The smartest out of all of you. He had to see it too, right? "Spencer..." You trailed off, hoping he'd have your back with a random yet super specific fact or an intense analysis of the police reports.</p><p>He almost looked sad when he shook his head. "I have to agree with Morgan. Everything we've seen from this unsub would indicate he's a loner."</p><p>You wanted to continue pushing the point but you were interrupted by an agent rushing up to the group, a piece of paper in hand. "When you were giving the profile, something just clicked in my head," his words were directed to Gideon but his eyes bounced around between each one of you. He was excited. "There's this guy I spoke to; he fits everything you said to a T."</p><p>You plucked the paper out of his grip and got to reading about Richard Slessman.</p><p>*</p><p>The plan was simple. Agent Elle Greenaway would lure the suspect out of the home and away from his family under the guise of needing help so that he could be arrested with little complication. Who could say no to a damsel in distress?</p><p>You had originally volunteered for the role, wanting to be the bait on the off chance things went south, but Hotch had insisted on Elle. If he thought your head wouldn't be in it due to the earlier disagreement with the team regarding the profile, he was wrong. But you did agree that she would do a great job. You had taken a liking to the other woman as soon as you met. Elle, who was only two or three years older than you, was cute and spunky and thoroughly impressed that there was a female working with the BAU. Since the men you worked with were so progressive and respectful, you sometimes forgot the Bureau was still kind of a boys club. You had let her know there always was room on the team for another before wishing her luck.</p><p>*</p><p>"Well," Hotch said, grabbing your attention as you, him and Gideon stood outside. "We got the jeep right." You were still unsettled by the look on Richard Slessman's face as he was taken into custody. Elle, as expected, had kicked ass. She got him out of the home and under control when the time came to arrest him. It kept a swat team out of a home that had children and an elderly woman in it and you were impressed. As, you could tell, was Hotch <em>and</em> Gideon. But what you didn't expect was the way Richard, as an FBI agent got him into handcuffs and others pointed their guns at him, remained eerily calm. The only change in demeanor was a smug smirk.</p><p>Elle, Morgan and Reid had gone into the home Richard lived in with his family while you, Hotch, and Gideon headed out. Your first stop was the garage.</p><p>"But we got everything else wrong," Gideon remarked.</p><p>You looked at him, knowing exactly where he was going. "All the victims had defense wounds-"</p><p>"And Richard doesn't have a mark on him." </p><p><em>Because he has a partner,</em> you wanted to say, but instead you said nothing.</p><p>*</p><p>The three of you made your way back into the home and met up with everyone else in Richard's room where Morgan had located his laptop. Elle was standing beside him and you heard her ask, "What's that six at the bottom of the screen?"</p><p>"The number of password attempts before the system wipes the hard drive," came the response.</p><p>"There's gotta be something in there that will lead us to Heather. Think you can get into it?" </p><p>"In six tries?" Derek's voice said it all, <em>I'm good but not that good</em>.</p><p>"Try again. Fail again. Fail better." You hadn't even realized Gideon had been listening to the exchange until he spoke. All of you, with the exception of Spencer, looked at him with confusion.</p><p>"Samuel Beckett," said the good doctor, as if that cleared everything up.</p><p>"Try not. Do or do not," came Derek's response. Now that's one reference you understood.</p><p>"Yoda." You and Spencer spoke at the same time. </p><p>You beamed at him, excited to find another Star Wars fan, before you turned around and began looking around his room. Maybe, you thought, he was one of those people that kept a list of all his passwords. You rummaged around, not finding exactly what you were looking for, but stumbling upon a true crime book that focused on criminology. You flipped through the pages, hoping to find a loose sheet or a hidden piece of paper, when you noticed something. A news clipping of Gideon from Boston. You held it up to the man in question.</p><p>He headed out the door in record speed, announcing to the group that he was going to talk to him.</p><p>*</p><p>None of you had sit in on the interview, but you got all the information needed when Hotch filled you in.</p><p>You were still snooping around hoping to find something, anything to help Derek get into the laptop when Hotch came rushing into the room. Slessman hadn't revealed anything pertinent but the interaction had been distressing to Gideon, who had a revelation - a true putting-the-puzzle-pieces together kind of moment - when he realized just what you had insisted earlier: there was more than one unsub. "Elle, come with me." His voice was hard and his words came out in a hurry. "You're going to come with Gideon and I back to the office. Morgan, Reid, Y/L/N, stay here profile the room, find anything you can on his relationships." He paused and looked at you. He didn't even need to say it, his face said enough. <em>You were right</em>. "Call me when you find something."</p><p>The urge to let out a satisfied<em> I told you so </em>was strong but you resisted, knowing you could gloat once you knew Heather was safe. "Let's get a way into that damn thing then," you said, nodding at your teammates before digging further into Richard's belongings.</p><p>It was Morgan who had suggested calling Penelope Garcia, the sassy, fashionable and genius tech analyst that had a way of getting into anything and everything - even super secret government programs that were meant to be unhackable. She could really give Reid a run for his money. And when Derek stepped out of the room, the aforementioned doctor took his spot, just staring at the electronic.</p><p>"Let me guess: You read some <em>computer program-hacker-thing</em>  one time three years ago and you know exactly how to get into that laptop. You were just playing along all this time to see if we'd figure it out." Although your voice was playful - you just couldn't help yourself, you always felt a sense of pride watching Spencer's face flush when you teased him - you wouldn't have been surprised and were even a bit hopeful. </p><p>"Well, actually-" He began but was cut off by Morgan.</p><p>"Wouldn't even matter - according to our supreme genius, there's no way to get into that thing. It's like Fort Knox."</p><p>"Penelope could definitely get us into Fort Knox, though," you retorted, incredulous. <em>The</em> Penelope Garcia couldn't help? </p><p>"Better get to guessing, pretty girl."</p><p>*</p><p>His birthday had been a bust.</p><p>His mother's name wasn't it either.</p><p>You let out a grown, swatting Spencer's hands away from the keyboard. "We only have four more tries, don't risk it." You stood then, grabbing the attention of both men in the room, and headed straight for Richard's bed. "Let's really profile this thing, boys."</p><p>You sprawled out on the covers and stared at the ceiling. "Okay, I'm Richard and I'm trying to sleep. We know he has problems with that because you found his prescription sleep meds, Morgan. What am I going to do?"</p><p>"Music," Spencer answered, pointing to an area of storage in the headboard and then motioning towards a rack of CDs. There were tons</p><p>"Alright, let's see what this weirdo is into."</p><p>You weren't entirely sure if musical taste was going to give any insight into Richard's state of mind, let alone a password into his highly protected laptop, but you figured you couldn't be too careful - couldn't do too much research. But nothing stood out to you, besides the fact that his taste in music matched up to yours in your high school years. Maybe he wasn't as weird as you thought. Or teenage you was just stranger than you wanted to admit.</p><p>"We're missing something, we're missing something," you were muttering over and over again when Spencer looked up. He had an empty CD case in his hand.</p><p>"The laptop," he said. "The laptop." He repeated himself but sounded more urgent on the second go.</p><p>"What are you thinking, Spence? Gimme that genius insight." You were desperate and had no shame in vocalizing that. You guys were close, you could taste it, and you just wanted that one break that would put it all together. Heather's life quite literally depended on it.</p><p>"It's so obvious, too obvious. Check the CD drive - if there's something in there, that's the album he identifies with, that's his favorite."</p><p>You watched with wide as as Derek pressed the button and out popped a Metallica CD. Of course, he was a little to old for Marilyn Manson.</p><p>"Fuck me," you groaned. It was hard not to feel frustrated after wasting so much time on something that should have been checked hours ago. You had searched through his entire, admittedly extensive, headbanging collection just to miss what was in front of you the whole time. You sighed and grabbed it. Metallica's self-titled album.</p><p>"Try Enter Sandman." You were profiling an angsty loner with insomnia; there was no way he didn't identify with the song.</p><p>Derek's fingers flew across the keyboard and up popped Heather's face. It was a live stream.</p><p>*</p><p>Morgan grabbed his phone and stood, getting Gideon on the phone while Reid took his place and you settled in behind him, a hand resting on the back of the chair as you leaned forward.</p><p><em>She's alive</em>, you heard Derek say,<em> we're watching her right now</em>. His conversation meant little to you. All you could focus on was the image before you. Heather was locked in a cage, blindfolded. It was dark and dingy save for a single light fixture right above the woman's enclosure. </p><p>"Where the hell is she?" You were so engrossed by the task at hand - literally saving a life - you didn't even notice how close you were to Spencer. Not at least until you turned your head to ask, "That can't be all we have, right?" and realized you were mere inches apart. You didn't even bother to right yourself. You waited for a response, one letting you know there was more before you nodded. "Good. Pull up the last day or so."</p><p>Like the expert you knew he was, Spencer pressed a few keys and a lineup of images formed on the screen. You were playing a game of <em>Spot the Difference  </em>with the world's highest stakes. "There," you finally said, "the light. Look at it."</p><p>"It's moving," he said.</p><p>"Where the hell could she be? That's definitely not a trailer or a big rig."</p><p>"A boat. She's on a boat!"</p><p>*</p><p>It was hours later and the team had regrouped back at the Field Office. There, you were regaled with Elle and Gideon's wild apprehension story. </p><p>The second unsub was Timothy Vogel, a guard at the prison Slessman had previously stayed at.</p><p>Gideon had become suspicious of him when he and Elle had gone to the prision to get information on Richard's old cellmate, Charles. Charles had died months prior, so he couldn't have been involved, but it was when Vogel was escorting Gideon and Elle out that they spotted a large metal keychain. It was in the shape of a 'Z' and was for the Datsun 240Z, the same car Heather had been looking to buy.</p><p>Six months away and Gideon's instincts were as sharp as ever because he knew that if they were right, and Vogel was in fact who they were after, their appearance would spook him so he decided to stake out the parking lot. When he left work, Gideon and Elle were right behind him.</p><p>Or so they thought. The guy was smarter than anticipated and had tricked a co-worker into switching vehicles. It was a set back, but not a major one as Hotch had gotten Slessman to crack and reveal where they were keeping Heather and just in time. You, Morgan and Spencer were back at Richard's house, watching as Timothy Vogel opened the cage. He was there. </p><p>Elle and Gideon had arrived at the shipyard just in time to see a blindfolded Heather stumbling around with Timothy Vogel hot on her heels. He grabbed her and drew his weapon. </p><p>It was, as Elle had said, a tense back and forth. Gideon had taken a bold approach, antagonizing the unsub who had a gun pressed to a live victim's head.</p><p>"When he told Vogel to shoot him, I really thought he was a goner," she recalled.</p><p>But he wasn't. Because Elle had gone around the back, giving her the perfect shot at Vogel when he lifted his gun to fire at Gideon. Heather got away relatively unharmed and it was as close to a happy ending as the BAU got.</p><p>"You are SUCH a bad ass," you couldn't help but tell Elle before everyone dispersed to gather their belongings.</p><p>*</p><p>You had headed downstairs and was waiting for the rest of the team when Spencer approached you.</p><p>"You knew."</p><p>It had been a long couple of days and you were so tired, you couldn't even begin to pretend to know what he was talking about. "What?" Your voice was soft, but confused.</p><p>"You knew that there was a second unsub and no one else saw it."</p><p>Ah, you thought, that's what this is about. "Listen, Spencer, everything in our profile said this guy was anti-social. I was the one that couldn't let things go." The fact that you got so fixated on certain details you couldn't let go was probably more of a negative than a positive. It was just luck it worked out in your favor this time. "So of course no one else saw it. There was no proof," you assured him, assuming your observation had ruffled feathers. </p><p>"No, Y/N. This isn't about my or Hotch's or anyone else's profiling skills. Y-you, uh, thought something and we all dismissed you." He tugged on the sleeve of his sweater, eyes bouncing from the ceiling to the floor before finally settling on you. "I just wanted to tell you that won't happen again."</p><p>Your heart warmed as this sweet but very awkward man attempted to reassure and, in his own way, apologize to you. You hadn't expected that; especially since your own desire to point out how right you were disappeared. All that really mattered was that Heather was safe and going back to Sandy. "I appreciate that, I do. But it's really not a big deal. I probably would have reacted the same way if the situation was reversed."</p><p>"No, you wouldn't have." Damn, he was good. "And, regardless we preach ad nauseum to law enforcement about tunnel vision and keeping open minds. The profile is meant to be a tool, not law." </p><p>He was right, of course. So you didn't push it. </p><p>*</p><p>"I can't believe a genius just told me I was right and he was wrong," you said casually, spotting the rest of your team walking through the lobby.</p><p>"Okay, that's not exactly-"</p><p>"Hey, guys!" You shouted once Hotch, Gideon and Morgan were within hearing distance. "Spencer said I was right and he was wrong!"</p><p>You stuck your tongue out at the man and walked outside, heading towards the SUV that would be taking all of you to the airport.</p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The team heads back to Quantico.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just something short and fluffy before we start the next case.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Why don’t we play chess?” You directed this question to Derek, who was sitting beside you.</p><p>With the case wrapped up, it was time to head back to Quantico. </p><p>On the way to a case, it was all business. Files were read, theories were passed back and forth and casual conversation was usually kept to a minimum. The trip home, though, was the exact opposite. There was gossip, reading and, as was usually the case with Spencer and Gideon, games were played.</p><p>“Because we like to actually have fun. Just look at poor Reid. He looks miserable.”</p><p>You laughed because you couldn’t disagree with him. With furrowed brows and hunched shoulders, Spencer almost seemed more focused now than hours earlier when on the search for a missing woman. Gideon, on the other hand, was the picture of relaxation. </p><p>“It can’t be that bad,” you decided. You lifted yourself slightly so you could be seen over the top of the seats, hoping to grab the attention of at least one of the men. Neither looked at you. “I’ve got winner.”</p><p>“Get ready, because it’ll be a short game,” said Reid, never breaking his focus. If the words came from anyone else, they would have been perceived as shit talking. But not from him. Spencer was just stating facts. “I see checkmate in six.”</p><p>“I see it in four,” said Gideon.</p><p>“What?” Spencer squeaked. </p><p>You just grinned and settled back into your seat.</p><p>*</p><p>It was only a matter of minutes later when you heard Gideon say, “Ah, you got me.”</p><p>That was a surprise. Not that Spencer had won. Even though last you heard Gideon was beating him, you knew that if anyone could outsmart Jason, it was Spencer. What really got you was how quickly the game had ended. You weren’t an expert chess player and your IQ wasn’t as high Spencer’s. If he didn’t just annihilate you in the first few seconds, your game would last far longer.</p><p>As you stood and looked over at them, you noticed Spencer staring at Gideon with wide eyes. He seemed shocked too. “Alright, wish me luck,” you muttered to Derek before heading over to where they were seated.</p><p>Gideon rose to his feet and the whole time, Spencer never took his eyes off him - not when Gideon told him good game or when he started heading towards the back of the jet. His gaze didn’t waiver until Gideon was out of his line of vision. </p><p>You were confused - it felt like you were out of the loop - and you wanted to ask what was going on. But, instead, you just sighed. “Go easy on me, I haven’t played in years.”</p><p>It took Spencer a few moments to respond, but when he did, he started setting the board back up. “Are you asking me to let you win?” There was a pause. “I’ve noticed that you tend to be a sore loser. It manifests in different ways, depending on the day and what kind of loss it is. Sometimes you get cross, others you sulk.” He looked at you. “I hope you’re not pouting when the game ends.” </p><p>Your mouth dropped and Derek guffawed in the background. Alright, maybe you were wrong. Spencer Reid could talk trash <i>and</i> profile you all in one breath.</p><p>Game on, Doctor.</p>
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